How oft has sad experience prov'd When goods of earth and sense Have once our warm affections mov'd "Tis hard to call them thence !

Great Father, let thy glories be
My soul's eternal food;
And be thy favour more to me
Than all created good.

The Tolling Bell.

Oft as the bell, with solemn toll,
Speaks the departure of a soul,
Let each one ask himself, 66 Am I
Prepar'd, should I be call'd, to die?"

Only this frail and fleeting breath Preserves me from the jaws of death; Soon as it fails, at once I'm gone, And plung'd into a world unknown.

Then, leaving all I lov❜d below,
To God's tribunal I must go,
Must hear the judge pronounce my fate,
And fix my everlasting state.

But could I bear to hear him say,
"Depart, accursed, far away!
With Satan in the lowest hell,
Thou art for ever doom'd to dwell."

Lord Jesus! help me now to flee,
And seek my hope alone in thee;
Apply thy blood, thy spirit give,
Subdue my sin, and let me live.

Then when the solemn bell I hear,
If saved from guilt, I need not fear :
Nor would the thought distressing be-
Perhaps, it next may toll for me.

God every where.

God made the world-in ev'ry land
His love and pow'r abound;
All are protected by his hand,
As well as British ground.

The Indian hut and English cot
Alike his care must own;
Though savage nations know him not,
But worship wood and stone.

He sees and governs distant lands,
And constant bounty pours-
From wild Arabia's burning sands,
To Lapland's frozen shores.

In forest shades and silent plains,
Where feet have never trod,
There, in majestic pow'r, He reigns
An ever-present God.

All the inhabitants of earth,
Who dwell beneath the sun,
Of different nations, name, and birth,
He knows them ev'ry one.

Alike the rich and poor are known,
The cultur'd and the wild;
The lofty monarch on the throne,
And ev'ry little child.

He knows the worthy from the vile,
And sends his mercies down:
None are too mean to share his smile,
Or to provoke his frown.

Great God! and since thy piercing eye My inmost heart can see,

Teach me from ev'ry sin to fly,

And turn that heart to thee.

The Apple-Tree.

Old John had an apple-tree healthy and green, Which bore the best codlings that ever were seen,

So juicy, so mellow, and red;

And when they were ripe, as old Johnny was

poor,

He sold them to children that pass'd by his

door,

To buy him a morsel of bread.

Little Dick, his next neighbour, one often might see

With longing eye viewing this nice appletree,

And wishing a codling might fall:

One day as he stood in the heat of the sun, He began thinking whether he might not take one,

And then he look'd over the wall.

And as he again cast his eye on the tree, He said to himself, "O how nice they would be,

So cool and refreshing to-day!

The tree is so full, and I'd only take one,
And old John won't see, for he is not at home,
And nobody is in the way."

But stop, little boy, take your hand from the bough;

Remember, though old John can't see you just

now,

And no one to chide you is nigh

There is one who by night, just as well as by day,

Can see

all you do, and can hear all you say, From his glorious throne in the sky.

Oh then, little boy, come away from the tree,
Content hot or weary, or thirsty to be,
Or any thing rather than steal;

For the great God, who even in darkness can look,

Writes down ev'ry crime we commit in his

book,

However we think to conceal.

The Old Beggar Man.

I see an old man sitting there,
His wither'd limbs are almost bare
And very hoary is his hair.

Old man, why are you sitting so?
For very cold the wind doth blow-
Why don't you to your cottage go?